


Same Boat

by AuraSweet13



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 07:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5039527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuraSweet13/pseuds/AuraSweet13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Samar and Ressler in "Luther Braxton".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Same Boat

Samar was dying. Donald could hear her dying, hear her gasping, trying in vain to get air into her lungs, and he couldn’t do anything to help. And the worst part of it was, the only reason she was dying was because Braxton was using her as a bargaining chip. It sickened him. In this moment, he wanted nothing more than to give her the air from his lungs. He heard Cooper’s voice over the walkie, speaking out the code, heard Braxton cut off the communication after receiving it. And then all he could hear was Samar gasping for air.

 _You got what you wanted, now let her down!_ Donald wanted to scream, barely resisting the urge to do so.

And then, mercifully, he did let her down. Once he heard her gasping in deep breaths of air, he exhaled a breath he didn’t even realize he had been holding. Even as she regained her breath, Donald could hear her speaking in a different language to Braxton’s henchman. He didn’t speak whatever language it was, though, so he couldn’t understand what was being said. But when he glanced over at the person on his left, he saw that the injured man was being lowered back to the little slab. Then they were left alone, but he didn’t dare talk to her. He wouldn’t even know what to say.

 

They’d been there a long time. He ran over Aram’s words in his head. A slaughterhouse for spies. There was a good chance they weren’t getting out of here alive, and the more time that passed, the more sure of that he became.

The door opened again, and he was aware of not just Braxton’s henchman from earlier, but a couple of other men as well, coming in with guns.

He glanced quickly over at Samar and found her with her eyes closed. She almost looked like she had accepted their fate, and that broke his heart. He faced forward, trying to keep a brave face.

And then there was nothing but heat and fire and a loud explosion.

 

Donald opened his eyes and found himself on the ground. The chain was still around his neck, but given his position, it wasn’t choking him.

Samar’s was, however He could hear little panicked sounds coming from her. Quickly he got the chain off from around his neck and scrambled to his feet, intent on helping her.

Braxton’s lackey stopped him, however.

They were pretty evenly matched, but Donald had incentive to beat him, at least enough to make it so that the man under him, currently being punched, wouldn’t try to stop him from helping Samar.

The man hit him with a steel pipe, stunning him and making it so Braxton’s henchman was able to get away. The minute his head stopped spinning, though, he ran to Samar and grabbed her legs to hold her up. There was no guarantee it would do any good, but as long as she wasn’t choking, that was good. “Hang on, hang on. You’re not gonna die today, hang on.” He urged, hearing a whimper escape her in response. What he didn’t say was  _You’re not gonna die today because I won’t let that happen._ If he could find something to free her zip-tied hands, she could keep herself from choking until he managed to get her down from that unforgiving beam. He regrettably let her go and went over to see if he could find something. And then he did. A knife. Grabbing that, he ran back over and cut the zip-tie binding her hands. He glanced up to see her hands gripping at the chain, keeping it from her neck, and felt relief flood through him.

Now that that was done, however, his next order of business was getting her down from the beam.

Running back over, he started to climb the larger beam, keeping his gaze fixated on her. He reached for the smaller beam, the one she was currently trapped on, reached for the chain. The smaller beam came loose, sending them both to the ground once more. He climbed over a small obstacle to reach her side. She was dazed, understandably so, but he could tell from her darting eyes that she was still with him.

Good.

He unwrapped the chain from around her neck, relishing in the way she was able to get air into her lungs without fear of losing that ability. “Okay, okay, come here, okay?” He waited for her to nod before he nodded too. “Okay, alright.” He helped her to her feet, noticing how her fingers clutched tightly to his shoulder. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” Donald let her lean on him, just soaking up the fact that both of them were alive. She was quiet, not that he could blame her, and her gaze darted around wildly, like she was expecting for them to be attacked at any moment. They could be, sure, but the fact that she was so shaken that she felt the need to even look around was awful. It hurt him to see her so shaken. He just wanted to get her somewhere safe, where she didn’t have to look over her shoulder and fear for her life. He kept his arm around her waist, making sure she didn’t have to put any weight on her foot, which he was pretty sure was still bleeding.

“I’ve got your back, Navabi.” He murmured, which earned him a brief smile.

Shortly after that, they found Reddington, and Donald brought a chair over so Samar didn’t have to stand on her foot. He absently placed his hand on her back as she examined her foot. Once Reddington got a signal, he walked over to speak into the walkie, get them help.

It wasn’t long before a chopper came to rescue them. Samar was quiet as they were taken away from the burning, sinking Factory, staring out the window. Donald was worried she had gone into shock. “Hey.” He said, glancing over at one of the men who had rescued them. “Can you get her a blanket?” The man in question nodded and pulled a blue blanket from the bag nearby. Donald took it from him. “Here, let me.” He slid over just enough to be able to reach her and draped it over her shoulders. Donald felt a pang when she startled, but then she relaxed upon seeing it was just him. There was another weak smile on her face as she pulled the blanket around herself, almost like a shield. “How’s your foot?” He asked. It was bandaged now.

Samar shrugged. “It’s fine.”

 _And everything else?_ Donald thought, not daring to actually ask. Her neck probably hurt too much for her to say more than a few words. Tentatively, he reached out and wrapped his arm around her. Maybe this wasn’t the right thing to do, but apart from looking surprised she didn’t react badly, so he didn’t pull away. He just wanted her to know that he was there for her, that she wasn’t alone.

He could feel her shaking slightly against him. Instinctively, his grip on her tightened a little. If he could protect her, put her mind at ease somehow, he would. He still had his arm around her when the chopper landed. Reddington was the first one out as one of the men who had rescued them checked Samar over. Donald noticed that she stuck close to him as they did. When that was done, she got up, holding onto anything she could to stop herself from having to put weight on her bad foot.

Donald sprang into action, coming up next to her and wrapping his arm around her waist. He helped her off the chopper and to the ground. Reddington was already sitting in the car, from what he could see. “Just lean on me.” He said quietly, causing her to nod. He didn’t let her go until they got to the car, where he made sure she got into the back safely, and he climbed into the front. If Reddington wasn’t already there, he would’ve sat next to her in the back. He strapped in, and soon they were driving off back to the Post Office. Back to safety.

 

Donald left Cooper’s office after debriefing him on the events at the Factory. His mind was still on Samar. He rounded the corner and saw her leaning against the wall, far down the hallway. She was alone, staring at the ground, hands pressed to the wall behind her. To put it bluntly, she looked terrified, like her mind was somewhere else, even though she was safe in the Post Office. He had two ways he could go about this. One, walk away like he hadn’t seen anything. Or two, try to comfort her.

 _It’s none of your business, Ressler._ His conscience told him.  _Just walk away._

He was about to do just that, and then she looked up and met his gaze, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Ressler?” Her voice was shaky and hesitant.

Without stopping to think about what he was doing, he walked purposefully towards her. Then he reached out and pulled her gently into his embrace. He felt her stiffen, in surprise, most likely, before feeling her relax into the embrace, feeling her hands come up to his back. He almost asked why she was out here by herself. But he didn’t, because he knew the answer.

She’d been through a literal hell today. She probably just wanted to be alone to process it all. And yet here she was, clinging to him, and here he was, comforting her.

That was probably another reason why he hadn’t walked away like he’d been planning. Because he’d been there, he’d watched her suffer. He didn’t think he could stomach ever doing that again. He’d almost lost her. Helplessly watching Samar choking to death had given him flashbacks to the terror he felt when Audrey died in his arms. He wouldn’t lose someone else he cared about, not like he lost Audrey. So he’d do what he had to in order to keep her safe.


End file.
